Writings on the wall
by Sparkling Dragon Tears
Summary: Songfic to Green Day's Jesus of Suburbia. Draco tells his story that's hidden to the world. 'No one cares...' W:Child abuse, language, selfmut.
1. Jesus of Suburbia

Ok. This is a songfic to Green Day's _Jesus of Suburbia_. Anyone who has hear this song knows that it is a long song with five parts. So, I have separated each part into a chapter. Please enjoy, as I like this song, and Draco haha.

**D/C: Song by Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike Dirnt, & Tre Cool. i.e. Green Day. From the album: American Idiot  
D/C 2: JKR owns HP people.**

Ok, as for **Warnings,** there is swearing in the song, child abuse in the story and self-mutilation. Don't like it, don't read it.

The song is itallic, _like so._ I hope you like this. Please, enjoy.  
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**I. JESUS OF SUBURBIA **

_I'm the son of rage and love,_  
My name is Draco Malfoy. My father is Lucius and my mother Narcissa.  
_The Jesus of Suburbia. _  
I live in a mansion a top a hill. All of our neighbors are rich, but we are by far the richest.  
_From the bible of none of the above. _  
That was my category. It's how people see me. Rich, stubborn, stuck-up. But that's a lie. You haven't seen the inside of me. You haven't seen in the walls of the Manor.  
_On a steady diet of  
Soda pop and Ritalin._  
I've grown up following my father's footsteps. I was meant to be evil. I've had no choice. No childhood. Only preparation for the Dark Lord. Well, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." I say, all pain and no fun makes Draco an empty shell.  
_No one ever died for my  
Sins in Hell,_  
If you knew what he does to me, you'd do what I do. Lucius hurts me, intentionally. Every day. To counter this, I bleed freely, cutting into my flesh and losing my magic as it bleeds out. It doesn't hurt anyone, maybe something will happen and he'll hurt for once.  
_As far as I can tell,  
At least the ones I got away with. _  
He hasn't found out yet. If he ever did, that would be the end of me. Maybe I should just die? Would it help? There'd be no one left for Lucius to take his anger out on. Maybe I should just give up one of these times, let the darkness take over.

_But there's nothing wrong with me._  
You'd do it too, if you were me.  
_This is how I'm supposed to be._  
What else is there to do?  
_In a land of make believe,_  
There is no perfect life. That's nonsense. Look what we have, power-hunger people and pushovers.  
_That don't believe in me. _  
And I think I qualify as the latter.

_Get my television fix._  
I have nothing to do in the Summers, I'm not allowed to play with the other children. I have to stay inside, read, entertain myself.  
_Sitting on my crucifix. _  
I can never tell him what I believe, he'd kill me first. To him, the only way is the Dark Lord's way.  
_The living room of my private womb,_  
So I'm stuck here, in my mind. The only place where I can be free and say what I want.  
_While the Moms and Brads are away. _  
What else can I do?  
_To fall in love and fall in debt,_  
Should I do anything my heart says, I'd be disowned. There'd be nothing left of me.  
_To alcohol and cigarettes. _  
So I do what I can. Break into the stash that Lucius hides. Trash the inside of my body so it matches the outside.  
_And Mary Jane,_  
Not perfect as it appears. Not even close.  
_To keep me insane._  
Torn between death or evil. It's pure insanity.  
_Doing someone else's cocaine. _  
So I do what I can, slowly dying.

_And there's nothing wrong with me._  
You would too. You know it. Don't even look at me that way.  
_This is how I'm supposed to be.  
In a land of make believe,_  
Maybe this is what they want. They don't want me here? I doubt it.  
_That don't believe in me._  
They don't even notice, much less care.  
--

Hey! I hope you guys liked! Thats the basic style of this whole fic. Each chapter is a part of the song, as I said. Please review! But don't flame, you read it! 


	2. City of the damned

Hmm. It would appear that this story is not nearly as popular as I'd hoped it would be. I don't think I'll be adding to this for a while, although all is written. My big project at the moment is another story, The Game. I hope that gets more reads as well. I have to say, for my faithful readers, yall aren't being quite as faithful as you were before. But maybe my stories just aren't interresting. Well, either way, if you're reading this, I hope you like it! Enjoy this new addition, check out my other stories, enjoy! I hope to hear from you soon.

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**II. CITY OF THE DAMNED **

_At the center of the Earth,_  
This white room here is the only place of freedom. The shining marble reflects all light. I look in the bathroom mirror and see my reflection. This is my haven, the place I am safe.  
_In the parking lot,_  
The walls look clear, but hidden on them is my writings.  
_Of the 7-11 where I was taught,_  
My sanity lies here. My blood. My scrawls written here, hiding until my death.  
_The motto was just a lie. _  
Maybe when they show up, someone will figure out that life's not perfect for me.

_It says: Home is where your heart is,_  
This last time he hit me, I think he cracked a rib. He managed to drag me from the bathroom.  
_But what a shame,_  
That was my safety. But he's gone for now, and I'm back in front of the mirror.  
_'Cause everyone's heart  
Doesn't beat the same. _  
Now I look normal. Like everyone else, perfect. But I can still feel the pain hidden under the glamour charms.  
_It's beating out of time. _  
No, There is no perfection here.

_City of the dead. _  
I open the drawer as usual and pull out my trusty razor.  
_At the end of another lost highway,_  
You can't see the scars under my father's glamour. That was the point, but I wanted to see the ones I made.  
_Signs misleading to nowhere. _  
I'll have to make more. Over my wrists and palms, spilling more paint for my writings.  
_City of the damned._  
As usual, I poke the paper-thin blade through the center of my palm.  
_Lost children with dirty faces today,_  
Dragging it through the skin, my paint jar is opened. Another cut across the thumb and pinky.  
_No one really seems to care. _  
Cupping the blood in my hand, I can use my finger as a brush. First though, I draw my wand and reveal all of my writings previous.

_I read the graffiti _  
Looking around, I see the scrawls from years past. Blood splatters, my name, cursing words, dates, symbols, and a whole wall of tallies. I add a tally every time.  
_In the bathroom stall,_  
Now I can use my brush. I stare at the wall, transfixed.  
_Like the holy scriptures in a shopping mall. _  
My mural of crimson shines in the light.  
_And so it seemed to confess,_  
Showing everything, yet hiding everything from the world.  
_It didn't say much,_  
I dip my finger in and make the next tally before throwing the blood pooled in my hand. It splashes on the wall and seems to freeze there. My hand is still gushing blood and I see myself in the mirror, once again a lie. A split second decision and my hand print drips down over my reflection, drowning it.  
_But it only confirmed,_  
I stare at the ceiling, blood writings having dripped and distorted. The floor mirrors the distortion with the droplets that have fallen. I look around the room again, growing more depressed.  
_That the center of the Earth,_  
The magic that is slowly leaving me, keeps the blood shining, even as it dries. With a sigh I put my bleeding hand under running cold water, and watch in fascination as it turns red and disappears down the drain.  
_Is the end of the world. _  
My life running down the drain. Again. Just another day.

_And I could really care less. _  
I put the charms back up and leave my sanctuary, back into the unsafe lies that my walls hold. Back into the watchful glares of Lucius.

_City of the dead._  
What can I do? Nothing. Just wait.  
_At the end of another lost highway,  
Signs misleading to nowhere._  
This house is not a home. It's a prison. I'm just a sitting duck, waiting for pain.  
_City of the damned .  
Lost children with dirty faces today,_  
Blood stains me. Pain marks me. There's no where to hide.  
_No one really seems to care._  
And no one cares.  
--

Well? Should I keep adding to this? Or is no one interrested? Please review if you like it. I'll continue if people are going to read it. Hope to hear from yall soon. 


	3. I don't care

Hey! Thanks for the wait! I'm adding to this and The Game because I've been at camp and am going away for the holiday. So I hope to have heard from you when I return!

Enjoy!  
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**III. I DON'T CARE **

_I don't care if you don't,  
I don't care if you don't,  
I don't care if you don't care. _  
You said you loved me. You said you'd keep me safe Mother. You were wrong. Just another lie. Once more my blood is washing down the drain. Thanks to that bastard you married.  
_I don't care if you don't,  
I don't care if you don't,  
I don't care if you don't care. _  
He doesn't care. Crucio, the belt, that cane of his, even his own hands. He hurt his child with his own hands. And he didn't care.  
_I don't care if you don't,  
I don't care if you don't,  
I don't care if you don't care. _  
Good thing his blood runs through my veins. This way, when I go, part of him goes too. Watch that, right there. It falls through the air and splashes on the cold white marble. That's his life and magic, leaving with mine.  
_I don't care if you don't,  
I don't care if you don't,  
I don't care if you don't care. _  
I don't want to hang on, I want to leave. Something always keeps me from going. Maybe I'm too scared.  
_I don't careeeee!_  
One of these days though, he'll push me over the edge.

_Everyone's so Full Of Shit!_  
Mother! Stop saying you love me! Stop saying it will be ok! You know it won't! You can't stop him anymore than I can! There is nothing that we can do. Lucius is a beast.  
_Born and raised by Hypocrites. _  
"Join the Dark Lord, you'll be praised, simply because you're a Malfoy. He'll give you power." Liar. The Dark Lord will abuse me for not joining sooner. I won't be powerful, I'll live my life to serve a monster. But I guess I already do, don't I Lucius?  
_Hearts recycled but never saved,_  
What would you do if I died? If I left you? Your life would lose effect. I know you can feel it. With every bit of my life that leaves me, with my magic, yours leaves too. You can feel the bond growing weaker. Your magic won't be the same without me.  
_From the cradle to the grave. _  
But you don't care. You just want to please the Lord. You'd have had me killed years ago if I wasn't your only heir.  
_We are the kids of war and peace,_  
"So what? You're going to join Harry Potter on his filthy, pathetic quest against a powerful Lord?" he sneers. Of course not. I hate him as much as I hate you, but I don't want to fight for the Dark Lord.  
_From Anaheim to the Middle East. _  
All he wants to do is kill. But those are my options, aren't they?  
_We are the stories and disciples of,_  
Kill or be killed?  
_The Jesus Of Suburbia!_  
Of course. When you're all the same, no one cares. I'm just another follower, or casualty in your case.

_Land of make believe,_  
It's all a lie. Love, light, hope.  
_And it don't believe in me. _  
And I don't fit into it. There is no room for confusion in a world of order.  
_Land of make believe,_  
A world of black and white.  
_I don't believe. _  
I'm red. Crimson like my blood. The blood and life that's falling. Washing down the drain.  
_I don't care,  
I don't care,  
I don't care,  
I don't care,  
And I don't care!_  
And no one cares.

--  
Hope you liked! Please review. 


	4. Dearly Beloved

Ok, real short chapter here, this part has a whole two verses. But the next chapter is the end, so please review!

Enjoy!  
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**IV. DEARLY BELOVED **

_Dearly Beloved, are you listening?_  
Merlin, I'm losing it. I can see myself in the mirror, wasting away, drowning in my bloody hand print.  
_I can't remember a word that you were saying. _  
Losing focus, losing care. Losing all sanity. Maybe that's what was keeping me hanging on. Well, I want to let go.  
_Are we demented? Or am I disturbed?_  
But I don't think I can. I have to stay here. Because something won't let me go. Maybe it's because I'm crazy. I'm losing it.  
_The space that's in between insane and insecure. _  
I'm collapsing into my heart. My breaking, bleeding heart. And there's nothing I can do.

_Oh therapy can you please fill the void?_  
Talking to yourself must mean you're going, right? I talk to the reflection. Tell it to choke on the blood.  
_Am I retarded or am I just overjoyed?_  
Pleading that it will drown.  
_Nobody's perfect and I stand accused,_  
But it never does, so everyday another tally is added and I lose more life.  
_For the lack of a better word, and that's my best excuse. _  
And that's my life, every day. Another encounter with my father leads me to stumble into the marble room. The glare from the lights gets brighter all the time, the marble just waiting to show my masterpieces to the world. But until then, they are hidden under my charms. Until then, no one will care. 


	5. Tales from another broken home

Thanks to the readers and reviewers! Here's the end. Enjoy.

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**V. TALES FROM ANOTHER BROKEN HOME **

_To live and not to breathe,_  
This is the last straw. Lucius beat me nearly unconscious. All because of my confusion. He knows I'm resisting the Dark Mark. And he won't make the decision easier. No, he'll make me decide.  
_Is to die in tragedy. _  
Let me rephrase that, he'll decide for me. So not only am I living a lie, I'm living his lie. And he doesn't care. There's nothing I can do about it.  
_To run, to run away,_  
Except find my peace in my marble room.  
_To find what you believe. _  
The sink is stained with hidden red. Only I can see it, but soon enough, it will be shown to the world.  
_And I leave behind,_  
I'm ready to go. I'll push past whatever barrier has been holding me back.  
_This hurricane of fucking lies. _  
And my murals will be open to the world.

_I lost my faith to this,_  
I'll use all my magic that's left. I'll spend my last blood on one final picture.  
_This town that don't exist. _  
The magic that should have made life easier. Made the world perfect. My life perfect. But we all know it's not. So, it's time to paint.

_So I run,_  
Cuts across the wrists this time. Ensuring blood loss when I hit the vein.  
_I run away. _  
I'm drawing a heart. A broken heart beside a broken wand. I've left this space on the wall for some time, and now it's time to fill it. I show Lucius being shunned by the Dark Lord because his son is dead.  
_To the light of masochists. _  
I show me, a razor lying beside my broken corpse.  
_And I leave behind,_  
Beside the broken wand. Beside the broken heart.  
_This hurricane of fucking lies. _  
I take one more look around my sanctuary. The walls are no longer white. That was just another lie, one that no one saw past except for me. The drawings tell a story. From years and years ago the story begins.  
_And I walked this line,_  
The wall of tallies is almost pure red. The ceiling depicts torture. There is a wall of my name and his name. Scrawls, and anger. Another shows the words he spoke. Overlapping, painting the wall with life.  
_A million and one fucking times. _  
And all this time, the only one that's noticed is...  
_But not this time. _  
No one.

_I don't feel any shame,_  
I feel myself smile. The first true smile in a long time. I can see the reflection in the mirror. The smile looks foreign.  
_I won't apologize. _  
Is it mocking me? It knows I want to go. Well, it can think whatever it wants. I don't care.

_When there ain't nowhere you can go,_  
There's nothing anyone can do now. My magic is gone. I can feel the cold blood in me, no longer warmed with magic. The veins are emptying, my heart cannot produce enough blood, it's too broken and I am too empty.  
_Running away from pain,_  
It's almost over and I can't wait.  
_When you've been victimized,_  
I'll haunt the bastard that tore me apart. He kept me fearing my own thoughts.  
_Tales from another broken home. _  
The reality of this is that now they will see. They'll know that there is nothing that's perfect. I'm far from it. I'm practically insane.

_You're leaving... _  
I'm lost.  
_You're leaving... _  
Almost insane, almost gone and you haven't noticed.  
_You're leaving... _  
Well, guess what?  
_Ah you're leaving home... _  
I don't care.

--

Please review!

Till next time.  
J X 


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